Bitter Ashes
by HyacinthMacaw
Summary: Ozai has been defeated and so the Gaang can begin to work towards a new world of peace, prosperity, and kindness. But Zuko has one last obstacle to face alone, and it's the hardest one of his life. Ship neutral, immediately post-show.
1. Chapter 1

**"People who fight fire with fire usually end up with ashes."**

_**Abigail van Buren **_

* * *

It was a day that should have been made for celebration. The day before, Aang had defeated the Fire Lord, and it seemed that a wonderful new era should be in store. They'd talked about it endless hours around the fire on starlit nights, the Avatar and the Crown Prince, dreaming up the world they'd make: one of peace, of harmony, one of hope. The way things should have been rather than the poison of the last century. 

Aang hadn't spoken much since the evening before. Zuko had visited him briefly, to reassure him that he held no ill will. Yes, Aang had caused the Fire Lord's death—or more rather, Ozai had killed himself by refusing to surrender and accept mercy. He hadn't felt too social himself last night, to be perfectly honest. His father had been cunning, malicious; in truth, rotten. But he had still been Zuko's father, and he'd spent the night with the few sweet memories of Ember Island and playing in the palace gardens.

Back when he was a young child, his father had loved him. It hadn't mattered that his birth was in the autumn, an unlucky season for a firebending child. It had all been wonderful until he had started firebending lessons at eight and showed his clumsiness, his self-consciousness, and quickly been overshadowed by Azula. Six years old, and properly summer-born, of course, she'd emulated him as he practiced, and as she realized she was far better, her former admiration for her big brother turned to mockery. Then the harsh words from Ozai had begun…lucky to be born, too soft, too weak, and too emotional. "You," Ozai had said one day, glowering at him after demanding a demonstration of the day's lesson and Zuko had failed yet again, "will be the downfall of this nation."

Nine years old, he had trembled under his father's criticism and cried himself to sleep that night. His father had been right, though. His joining Aang, teaching firebending, and fighting by his side had secured the downfall of the Fire Nation, or at least the Fire Nation made in Sozin's image.

His father's funeral would be in the morning. His body was in the care of the Fire Sages, who were making the necessary arrangements. As for himself, he was trying to ignore what the people would think of their Crown Prince helping kill his father. Would they think him a bloodthirsty little monster who couldn't wait for his chance to come naturally?

He was getting ahead of himself. He'd heard from the servants that Azula had arrived back at the Imperial City just after dawn, fresh in from hunting with Mai and Ty Lee for Aang. Not her idea, he was sure; probably Ozai's. He probably hadn't expected a stealthy attack on the palace at sundown by a small group instead of a full-scale assault like the one that had failed during the eclipse.

And he had a good idea where, having heard that her father had been killed, Azula probably would be now. Not by Ozai's side mourning, but trying to seize her chance. Looking at the lacquered door panels leading into the Council Chamber, he took a deep breath. Some part of him wanted to just hide, run away to the remote islands and live the rest of his life in peace and quiet and obscurity. Anything to not face this task, particularly after the brutal work the last battle had been for him physically and emotionally. But this was his duty to the Fire Nation and to the other nations as well. _Calm, centered, focused. Don't let her words twist you, don't react. She can't win if there's going to be any hope for us all._

Pushing open the doors unannounced, he saw that he was right. Azula was speaking to the Council of Sages. His father had probably raged over their supposed treasons at Roku's temple on the winter solstice. But even if he had the Sages firmly under his thumb, he wasn't stupid enough to fully antagonize by imprisonment the sole authorities who could perform the spiritual rites of their people. And that meant they were the only ones to confirm and coronate a new ruler of the Fire Nation. Her scheme meant she'd have to win their approval. "Hello, Azula," he said calmly, stepping into the chamber.

She turned on her heel and saw him, her face twisting in rage. "Leave," she hissed, stabbing her long-nailed finger at the door. "You dare to come here after you just helped kill our father?"

Privately he was certain he mourned Ozai far more than she did. Any show of grief was solely to gain the advantage of appearing the stricken, dutiful daughter deserving her father's legacy far more than her traitor brother. He felt a bitter smile twist his lips as a dark thought came to him. Helping slay his father and then scrapping desperately for the throne over the carcass like a buzzard-jackal. It sounded so familiar. "Then I'm just following in Lord Ozai's footsteps, aren't I?"

A few murmurs echoed in the chamber as the confused Fire Sages had no idea what he referred to. He caught Azula's gaze and defiantly held it. She knew exactly what he meant. And she'd approved of their father's secret coup, so he wasn't going to let her play a horrified girl. So he made his challenge, direct and clear. "You know the throne's mine by rights."

She smiled coolly. "You were declared a traitor, _Zuzu_, at least twice. To be hunted down and brought in dead or alive."

He felt weary remembering weeks on the run, starving and cold and lost in the Earth Kingdom. _My father did that to me. _He turned to Zharo, the Chief Sage, ignoring Azula. "Did my father revoke my birthright?" he asked calmly, though his fists were clenched tightly enough that his fingernails were cutting into his palms. It was an enormous gambit. If he was right, his father had been arrogant enough to think his son no threat, as he always had. And he wouldn't have bothered to strip his son of his inheritance and give it to Azula until he could do it before Zuko's very eyes as one last exquisitely cruel "lesson".

This, bringing the force of Fire Nation law to bear against her, would be the easiest way. Given the rule of the Fire Nation, she'd be crueler and more cunning than Ozai, Azulon, or Sozin. Any firebender understood a basic principle of their element: go on the attack. Control and extinguish the flame of an obstacle early, or given a chance it'd become an uncontrollable blaze. And so by force, by argument, or by guile, he had to defeat her now. Iroh had taught him well: he had backup plans just in case. Some were almost reasonable, and some of them were dark enough that he preferred to not think about them.

"Of course he disowned you," Azula snapped.

Zharo looked almost apologetic. "Your brother is right, Princess Azula. He declared Prince Zuko a traitor—but he never formally disinherited him."

He managed to contain the victorious smile threatening to break across his face. For once he was almost grateful for his father's condescending underestimating of him.

And with that point established, he was well aware that despite his uncertain allegiances, he had another point in his favor. Lirah, two weeks old and the size of a small lion-dog, shifted and twined her coils protectively around him as she sat on his shoulders. She let out a hissing puff of smoke; clearly she didn't like Azula.

He could imagine what a sight she made: her scales glittering deep purple-black, coruscating in the fireglow of the torches. He felt her raise her head and knew that she probably looked at the Fire Sages with her golden, piercing eyes as if to dare them to deny her master. Glancing at the Sages, he saw that their eyes were fixed solely on the miraculous sight of a baby dragon, ignoring him and Azula entirely.

The dragons were extinct, so the story went, and certainly he was in no hurry to reveal Ran and Shao's safe keep with the Sun Warriors. But the evidence was right before them: a living dragon, where none was supposed to exist. He'd planned this little display—he'd unfortunately learned a thing or two about manipulation from Azula. He hoped they saw Lirah as a mark of him possessing favor with the spirits of fire and the sun, establishing the two of them as a clear link to the Fire Lords of the past and their dragon companions. That symbol wouldn't be enough to overcome their doubts about the legitimacy of his acts, enough to defeat Azula's claim alone, but he was sure it couldn't hurt his chances.

And Azula knew it, sensed the change in the mood from the Council of Sages between the reaffirmation of Zuko's birthright and the sight of the dragon. Her usually unruffled manner took on a touch of desperation, a wild look coming into her eyes. "Will you have _him _rule over us?" she demanded.

Guzo, another of the Sages and the master of law, answered. "Princess Azula, he is the eldest. Unless specific provision is made otherwise, as in the case of your grandfather passing over your uncle, the right of primogeniture is clear."

"He's a traitor!"

"But he wasn't stricken from the family lineage, so his past status is of no consequence where the right to rule is concerned. And Princess, the Fire Throne has also never been passed to a daughter except when there is no son. As elder son, Prince Zuko's claim clearly outweighs yours as the younger daughter."

Azula thought about that for a few moments, and a slow smile curved her lips. In contrast to her near-shouting just before, she was perfectly, frighteningly calm now. "And if, spirits forbid, Prince Zuko should die?"

"The rule of the Fire Nation would pass to you, Princess," Guzo admitted with a look of dawning comprehension.

She looked at Zuko with an expression of pure cold venom, eyeing him like a cobra-hawk that had finally caught its prey. "Then I challenge you to an Agni Kai. That's _my_ birthright as a firebender."

His heart sank, although he'd expected it would come to this, known that she wouldn't go down peacefully. He had no choice but to nod. No firebender could refuse a challenge without losing face. And this one he couldn't refuse without losing the legitimacy of his claim to the throne, let alone having to worry about her trying to have him assassinated if he refused to duel her to the death. "I accept. At sunset tonight?"

"Yes." She turned for the door, and he watched her leave in silence. She turned at the door and looked over her shoulder at him. "You know, I'd offer to let you and Mai say goodbye before I kill you, but I doubt she's willing."

He felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. Never mind that he knew their relationship was over once he'd left, and that he wasn't the boy she had loved any longer. He still cared for her, and he always would. He'd carried some stupid hope that he could explain, that they could still be friends. But it looked like she'd chosen Azula.

He looked over at the seated council, wanting to give them reason to believe he should be Fire Lord other than the cold words of law and his father's oversight. "Thank you. I…" His voice failed him. "I didn't want this," he finally said, almost in a whisper.

Only the youngest, Shiyu, looked at him with kindness in his expression, something like fellow-feeling. He remembered the winter solstice, demanding Shiyu tell him why he'd turned traitor and helped the Avatar. _Because it was once the Sages' duty…it is still our duty. _And he knew that this one, at least, understood why Zuko had done what he did. "If I survive tonight," he finally said, "I swear that your rights and authority will be restored. My ancestors were wrong to take them from you."

That was as much of a peace offering as he could give the Fire Sages at the minute. As he slipped out the door, he saw Iroh standing there, waiting for him. He shook his head. "It played out like we thought. The Sages don't like me, except for Shiyu, though they admitted they have to support my claim. But she demanded an Agni Kai."

Iroh's eyes were full of concern and something almost like pity. "And you accepted?"

"I have no choice," he said wearily. He'd lost his father the day before, and now chances were he'd have to kill his sister, or be killed by her. How much more could he bear? "I'll go tell the others. I'd better attend to a few things." He wasn't sure whether his friends should be there or not. If he lost, they needed to be able to escape rather than be seized immediately by Azula. And his mother—did she really need the sight of her two children doing their level best to end each other?

Though he couldn't bear the thought of being alone in the Agni Kai arena against all the hostility of those who thought he was a traitor. So once again he turned to the man who'd always been there for him. "You'll be there?" It came out more like a scared plea rather than the serene request he'd hoped for.

Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder. "Of course."

He turned towards the living quarters of the palace, towards the inevitability of his family tearing itself to pieces again. He was unable to shake off the disturbing sense that in the space of a day, he'd unwillingly become more his father's son than he had in sixteen years of life.


	2. Chapter 2

As evening approached, Zuko found himself sitting at the desk in his quarters, dressed in his trousers, staring at a single candle flame in meditation. As he inhaled and exhaled, the flickering rise and fall of the tiny fire following the rhythm of his breath, he tried not to think about the next few hours just yet.

Lirah hooked her claws into his trouser leg and climbed up to sit on his lap as it she belonged there, with the regal self-assurance of her kind. Looking up at him with hopeful golden eyes, she gave him a pleading "Meep", eyeing the untouched and rapidly cooling plate of food in front of him.

He smiled a little to himself, and gave in. He wasn't that fond of komodo beef under the best of circumstances, and he honestly thought that if he ate it, he'd be looking for a bucket to puke it out within ten minutes. Feeding her the tidbits of meat, watching his fingers against the sharp nip of her teeth, he couldn't help but think how quickly their bond had grown.

It had been only two weeks ago they'd been in Sei Phon, in the mountains surrounding the Imperial City. They had stayed above the restaurant owned by Kirtal, an Earth Kingdom emigrant…a restaurant with a blooming white lotus on the back wall.

Kirtal's visiting cousin, Tiani, had asked to speak to him in private, although it was only with Toph's reassurance that she was telling the truth that she meant no harm that he agreed. She'd ordered them shokatl, a rich spicy-sweet drink she said came from her native desert. He almost choked on the first sip, but the flavor grew on him quickly.

Looking at her, he recognized her story was good. Her darker skin would tip most people off that she indeed wasn't native, though most would assume her to be a colonial from the Earth Kingdom just as she and Kirtal claimed. Their golden eyes would have been explained as having some Fire Nation blood. After all, most people this far west had never met an earthlander, so they had no basis for comparison.

And even those who had wouldn't have known the truth. Her face was bare of carmine paint and her hair was in a proper topknot rather than a phoenix tail, but the high cheekbones, the lithe movements; he'd seen them before. And he was certain, with a knowledge that ran deep in his bones, that he'd seen her standing at the base of the steps to the dragon caves.

He got right to the point. "Why are there Sun Warriors in the Fire Nation?" he asked, staring at the shokatl in his hand.

Her lips curved in an amused smile, acknowledging his perception. "A thousand years ago, when what we had taught your people was becoming corrupt, we chose to turn away. And so we kept the old ways alive. But after Iroh came, after so long in isolation, some of us chose to once again live among you. So they look for some hope once again in the Fire Nation. Kirtal was the first, and he has been away for twenty-five years. Myself? I'm only here to deliver a message."

"What for," he fumbled for the correct title, and his years of training made him err on the side of politeness, "Lady Tiani?"

"Masters Ran and Shao saw something in you during their judgment." She looked at him thoughtfully. "Perhaps, that your heart is of when your ancestors were the companions of dragons rather than their slayers. They told our shaman that their child was to be trusted to your care. And so I come to fulfill their wishes."

"Wait, _what_?" So much for courtesies; all he could do was look at her in confusion.

She gestured him to follow her into the back room. As he lit a small hand-flame in the darkness and looked where she indicated, he started to understand. The dragonlet was barely the size of a loaf of bread, all wings and tail and neck. Her tiny scales gleamed with a midnight purple luster, and her gold eyes regarded him with a peculiar intelligence.

Tiani looked at him with a level amber gaze. "The dragons put their hope in you, young prince, that you will make it a world where their life is honorable, not their death. And so do the Sun Warriors."

Aang and the rest had been astonished to see him come upstairs, a baby dragon riding on his shoulders and rumbling with contentment. But the only time she had left his side since was when he had sent her away yesterday with Appa, to keep her safe.

In five years she would be big enough to swallow a crocox whole, to carry him into the sky and fight by his side. But for now, she was small and frail and helpless. And she looked at him with absolute trust, a thing he was so little accustomed to.

She trusted him to protect her until the day when she could return the favor. Her parents trusted him to be the savior of the dragons. The Sun Warriors trusted him to make the Fire Nation once again a place of glory rather than shame. His uncle trusted him to set right the wrongs of his great-grandfathers. And he knew that everything they'd fought for the previous day hung in the balance. It would all be lost if he failed.

Now he knew how Aang felt, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. To see all the hopes and dreams of the world come true, all he had to do was fight his own sister. Some part of him wanted to protest that he was only sixteen, that it was too much. He shook his head, sighing to himself. He'd known the day would come. That didn't mean he liked it any better.

A quiet knock sounded on his door. He turned; he'd asked Iroh to request that the others leave him alone for the day. _No goodbyes, _he'd said forcefully. _I'm not going to need them._ And they'd respected it. He'd spent the last ten hours trying to meditate and prepare himself: that, and despite his bold words, writing farewell messages. He knew his drive was strong. It always had been. But in this test of wills, he knew Azula would be strong as well.

Aang slipped into the chamber, closed the door behind him. "I thought," Zuko said calmly, putting Lirah on the seat of the chair, "I'd told Uncle to have all of you leave."

Aang looked at him, sleepless dark circles under his eyes, grey eyes with a man's bitter knowledge set in his child's face. "I told your uncle I wasn't going. He agreed with me."

"And if I lose?" He finally gave voice to it. "I die in the arena, and Azula arrests you where you stand. She'll kill you, Aang, and all the hope dies too. We can't wait another sixteen years for the next Avatar to grow up, and who'd train them in airbending anyway?"

"You won't lose." Aang gave him a tentative smile. "We all said that about you, right from the start. You never give up."

"They're all still here?" he asked, a little astonished. Secretly, it eased his mind a little to know that he wasn't alone, as selfish as it was to have them risking their safety on his gamble. He already knew he'd probably see Mai and Ty Lee sitting on Azula's side.

Aang nodded. "I'm here. Katara and Sokka, Toph and Suki…we're your friends. You don't abandon your friends when they need you."

"You haven't been in the Fire Nation long enough this century," he said, painfully aware that it was too true. "Friends are considered useful, nothing more. Azula wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice her friends if she thought she'd gain."

"You're not Azula. Yesterday they offered you mercy. All you had to do was step out of the way and let them capture me. You didn't."

He held his tongue, though he was sure that his father's offer of amnesty had been a thing spun of lies. He was touched by Aang's faith in him, and to meet that with cynical remarks would somehow be an insult. "Thanks," his voice suddenly rough. "For…for…" _For staying, for forgiving me, for being a friend, for not hating me for being my father's son, for not letting yesterday break you_. There wasn't much more he could think of to say, and it would seem like stalling. So he reached for the gold armbands lying on the desktop. Sliding them on and settling them in place, he took a deep breath. "Guess I'm ready." It was only a short walk to the arena through the corridors.

Aang nodded. "We'll be there watching," he reassured again.

A thought struck him just then. Reaching into the drawer of the desk, he picked up a small, red silk-wrapped bundle. Undoing the fabric, he looked at the gold and deep red enamel of the topknot ornament Iroh had given to him while in prison. His inheritance as Crown Prince; given to him that day along with the legacy of his ancestry. Strange; he didn't remember Iroh ever having worn this, even when he was Azulon's heir.

Aang peered over his shoulder. "Hey, that's Roku's!" he exclaimed, boyish excitement creeping into his voice for the first time.

"What?" He looked at the young Avatar.

"Avatar Roku wore that." He didn't remember much about Roku; mostly the Fire Nation tried to forget the Avatar who had opposed the Fire Lord. It hit him hard to realize that he was trying to emulate a man whose face he didn't even know.

"But my uncle said it's something that's been in the royal family for centuries."

"It was," Aang agreed. "But Sozin gave it to Roku when he had to leave to start his studies with the other bending masters. Roku wore it 'til the day he died. I thought it was buried on his island."

It occurred to Zuko to wonder just how in the hell his uncle had found the thing, but he smiled wryly to himself as an answer occurred to him. "Probably something to do with his journey in the spirit world." That journey had apparently made Iroh give up his rightful claim for the throne. In favor of Ozai, ostensibly, but now Zuko wondered if it had been a deliberate move on Iroh's part rather than lack of caring. Maybe the spirits had given him this artifact, told him the truth about its past, and about the boy who carried the blood of the two men last linked to it…a boy, they might have told him, whose destiny could be to right the wrongs done a century before. And for Zuko to take the throne and have that chance, Ozai had to come first.

He'd seen Iroh's ability to plan and wait patiently. Was this his gambit finally paying off? It brought a lump to his throat to think of all that Iroh had sacrificed. He'd given up his birthright, spent years in exile, putting up with Zuko's complaining and bitterness. And through it all, it seemed he'd been caring for him not just as a son in all ways, but trying to encourage him as a fervent hope for the future. He'd let Iroh down worse in Ba Sing Se than he had thought.

He looked at Aang, feeling a wry smile on his lips. "Well, I'd try to set it right and give it again, Crown Prince to Avatar. But you've got no hair."

Aang chuckled, hesitantly at first, as if the sound of his own laughter almost surprised him. "It belongs in the Fire Nation. And since you're Crown Prince and Roku's descendant, you should wear it."

The rightness of it struck him. When he knew it only as the Crown Prince's symbol, he'd been ready to wear it to show that Azula wasn't going to make him cower, that he accepted his birthright and everything that went with it. He hadn't worn it yesterday because it had somehow seemed wrong to reassert himself as Crown Prince just then. But now—if Roku had been last to wear this, the man whose path he'd chosen over Sozin's? It seemed only fitting.

That made his decision. Putting it on and sliding the pin into place, he nodded to Aang. "All right, then."

The more he thought about it, the brighter the outlook seemed. He'd chosen his path, the way of hope and peace. His firebending power came from an older way, a way of life and energy and determination. Maybe some part of him had suspected; he remembered Zhao's mockery when he'd refused to kill him at their Agni Kai. He could defeat her, but after he had the victory…well, his way wasn't the way of Sozin. Looking at himself in the mirror, at the baby dragon by his side and the Crown Prince's symbol on his topknot, he thought for the first time he saw something more than the shame of a scar. A boy still, but he thought he saw the truth of the man he was _meant _to be for the first time.

If he had time, joss sticks, the proper prayers: but this would have to do. Looking at the candle's flame, he sent a prayer to the spirits of his ancestors who had worn this same ornament and been brothers to dragons. He began with Sozin's father, going back to the names he'd learned only as a litany of the Fire Lords of the past. _Zhalon, Orako, Itomi, Anzhin, Sashi, Ryoh, Hanzo, Kuzon, Akomo, Mochi._ He thought too of the Fire Sages, shoved aside and then cowed into a shadow of their true calling by the Fire Lords, and of the Sun Warriors, who had turned away in sorrow from what their pupils were making of firebending. _The old ways aren't lost. The Fire Nation will be the way it should have been. I swear it._

Reaching for Lirah, as she snapped up one last piece of meat, he let her wrap herself around his shoulders. Then he looked back at Aang. "All right. _Now_ I'm ready."


End file.
